Every morning at exactly seven, the familiar sound of the saw wakes memory before it wakes the body. My childhood home stands just across from the Barsoukis cooperage, and since I was a child, the music of wood being cut, shaped, lifted has been part of the daily rhythm of life.
I enter the workshop just before the day begins. Someone calls the elevator to send wood up to the upper floor. Up there, light slips in through the cracks. Planks are stacked to dry slowly over time, and a few finished barrels wait in the corner. From the window, Metsovo stretches quietly and familiarly, just as it always has.
Downstairs, the machines come alive. The smell of freshly cut wood fills the space as the men prepare for the day. Movements are precise, repeated, almost silent. At ten, they stop for their usual break — a cigarette, a coffee, maybe a short conversation — and then return to their stations without needing to be asked.
The Barsoukis workshop has been in operation since the 1950s, producing wooden barrels for feta cheese and wine. Beech wood is used for the cheese barrels, oak and chestnut for the wine — selected for their durability and ability to breathe. The wood is dried naturally upstairs before being cut, measured, and assembled entirely on-site, using both hand tools and old industrial machines. Nothing is rushed.
The men who work here have been doing this for most of their lives. Some for over thirty years. Their routine hasn't changed much — and that, in a way, is the point. A small industry, held together by hands, repetition, and the weight of knowing exactly what needs to be done.
Cameras: Leica M11-P
Lenses: Voigtlander Color-Scopar 28mm f/2.8, Voigtlander Apo-Lanthar 50mm f/2.8